Mirage in the Desert
by multiplicities
Summary: Burdened with another person to take care of, it was no wonder that Ike died. Soren turned first to despair, then to a contract with the devil. In his pursuit of his one goal, he discovers a new world.
1. Chapter 1

"Your Highness, with your permission, I will continue as commander of the Greil Mercenaries. Our contract has not changed."

"Thank you, Lady Titania. Then, I will entrust my fate and the fate of my country to you."

Soren looked up in time to catch Princess Elincia's eyes, made brighter by unshed tears, just before she left.

_Ike, promising to protect the princess, just some strange woman that he had never met before –_

The heron princess' babble sounded very charming. That didn't make it any more understandable.

He looked pointedly at her brother for a translation.

"She would like to express her condolences for your commander's death," Reyson explained, eyes veering towards Soren and then away uncomfortably. His pale clothes could have cast him in the role of a holy man, despite all the violence and bloodshed that seemed to gather around the supposedly pure herons. "Though Leanne knows that there is no way she can even begin to make up for your loss, she offers to sing at the funeral."

Leanne nodded fervently. In another time – _another life_ – Soren might have pointed out her ability to comprehend the common tongue as just another one of royalty's habit of hiding information but he didn't even want to look at her, for all her loveliness.

_Held in his arms, she had been protected as a priceless valuable and Ike had tried to protect her even when hampered by her weight and only one arm –_

"What would he say if he saw you like this?"

Soren placed his book down precisely, though in truth he hadn't turned the page in perhaps an hour, perhaps longer. He favored their green knight with a chilly gaze.

Oscar sighed. "Soren, this isn't healthy. At least join us and eat something."

"Is it so easy for you to transfer your loyalty from one commander to another?" Soren finally spoke. "What an exemplary mercenary."

"That's not true, Soren, and you know it. Ike was like a brother to me, but the rest of the Greil Mercenaries are my family, too. I can't just abandon them to grieve over Ike."

_That memory of Ike welcoming Soren, allowing him to be his friend, was all that Soren could see._

A head poked into Soren's tent. Long crimson hair fixed in a loose braid swung behind her, making Titania look like the war goddess some bandits referred to her as.

"Soren, we need your strategies. Ike wouldn't have wanted this. He'd have wanted you to help us make Crimea free again."

"As if any country could be free under the oppression of the ruling elite."

"Soren! Stop acting like a petulant child."

He got up. Couldn't he have some peace in his own tent?

"Soren, wait! Where are you going?"

_That back, walking away from him every night in his dreams –_

He held the knife up parallel to the length of his arm. Volke might have known what he planned to do with it when he bought it from the thief. It didn't matter.

He pressed it into his skin, finding the edge unexpectedly sharp.

Then, with a wordless snarl of frustration, he threw it away from himself.

Why was it that he clung to life even when he had nothing left to live for?

_And this was yet another bitter irony, that the one who had landed a fatal blow had been a faceless soldier, with nothing noteworthy about him at all; if only he had been allowed to kill the man a dozen times over –_

He ran from the campsite with the stolen medallion wrapped in a cloth.

Lehran's Medallion had been mentioned in a few old books, but even if it was just a legend, he would take any chance, however slim.

_I will kill for you, sow chaos for you,_ he swore, not knowing if the fire emblem's dark god was capable of hearing. _As long as you bring Ike back, I don't care if the entire world is destroyed._

Those of dragon blood have a specific affinity with the goddess.


	2. Chapter 2

"Can you hear me?"

The medallion stayed stubbornly silent. Not that he had expected it to talk back, but given the legends surrounding it, he had expected _something_, at least.

"Dark god. Chaotic thing. Monster."

It didn't respond. Soren sighed, frustrated with his lack of progress. He was starting to question his decision to steal the thing. Really, what had possessed him? Except there was a nagging feeling that the medallion could give him back what he wanted…

_Ike._

In any case, he did not regret leaving the Greil Mercenaries and the hangers-on that they had collected over their campaign. None of them understood; all of them had someone else for them. Soren only had Ike, and now he didn't have anyone.

He reached for the medallion, fingers pausing over it as though he could feel heat rising from the inanimate object. It was tempting to touch it with his skin. At least being driven to madness would chase the pain of losing Ike away.

Did it matter whether his nature was more chaotic or more ordered, or would he start slaughtering indiscriminately either way? With Soren unable to distinguish between the Greil Mercenaries, the Daein soldiers, or even between human and sub-humans?

The young sage's head snapped up – the fire emblem suddenly glowed a faint blue. He waited for something to happen, but the glow slowly faded with nothing else of interest occurring.

S_omething_ had just happened; the medallion had responded. But to what? He closed his eyes and thought of blood, of the carnage and broken bodies he had seen in their foolhardy campaign, of Commander Shiharam being wounded by his own daughter's javelin, of the feral laguz snarling and tearing at Oscar's arm –

The medallion flashed blue again. This time, it was much brighter.

So that was it. He didn't understand, but it seemed to gain power at even the thought of beorc against laguz.

_Flash._

The figure that appeared within the center of the light-inscribed circle was one that was virtually an icon for sheer power.

Soren snatched the covered medallion, making sure that at no point did his skin touch the surface of the object and stood up.

The Black Knight advanced slowly. Tall and grim as always, with one hand leaving the pouch at his side to grip the hilt of his sword. He didn't need to draw it to snap a wind sage in half, of course.

"You're the child who followed Greil's son around. So, you've turned traitor?"

He had thought he was beyond fear before. Apparently, he was wrong.

"My loyalty is to Ike alone," Soren retorted. "There's no reason for me to continue serving the Crimean princess now."

"Then you did not steal that medallion?"

Soren's hand clutched the medallion tightly until indents formed from the ridges. He met the place where the Black Knight's eyes squarely and reached for Elwind with his other hand.

"My master commands that I bring Lehran's Medallion to him. Give it to me, boy."

If he gave him the medallion, then the result would be the same. King Ashnard would no doubt continue waging war against the other kingdoms of Tellius until all the beorc and laguz were embroiled in this war. It would give the medallion power, most likely. Eventually, the dark god would rise – and maybe it would grant him his wish.

Though it didn't seem likely. If he gave it away, then the tenuous contact he had established with the fire emblem would be useless.

Besides, Ike would never forgive him.

"Give it to you? Don't be ridiculous. I would never help the man who killed Ike's father."

The ideal situation would be starting over in a new place, where none of the ones Ike cared about could possibly be dragged into the bloodshed. Soren would gladly sacrifice lives to resurrect Ike, but not at the price of Ike's hate and revulsion, even if it worked.

"Your commander is dead. Do you think you stand a chance against me?"

Calculations of his odds were dismal, and Soren briefly wondered why he even cared anymore. Perhaps being met with total indifference towards whether he lived or died during his childhood had produced this stubborn desire to live, even when there was no chance of doing so.

From what he had observed, the Black Knight might very well be invincible. He had never seen anyone land a hit on him, and he was frighteningly fast for someone carrying around half his body weight in armor.

An image blossomed in his mind, of the black armor.

"What?" Soren asked. It hadn't been in the tones of the Black Knight, but he'd heard – or sensed – something.

Black armor that glowed the same color as the fire emblem, but the magic protective rather than hostile. As though it had been blessed by the goddess…

Was it the medallion? If the armor was blessed, that would explain a great deal about the seeming invincibility and much vaunted skills of Daein's greatest knight.

Alondite cleared its sheath, and the knight in black took a deliberate step towards him.

Would his magic get past it, however? Soren was fast and he was highly skilled at magic, especially of the wind variety, but the Black Knight was far too close – not to mention the reach of the sword could hit him regardless of where Soren tried to use magic. He wasn't carrying any tomes for long-range attacks – he needed to stock up when, or if, he reached a store.

"How foolish. You will die, here and now." Another step.

There was no time left. Soren called Elwind down – on himself. Or rather, he called it down on the spot where he had been standing. Taking advantage of the magic-infused wind, he flew across the clearing towards the Black Knight. The knight changed his direction instantly and swung his sword down at Soren.

Ducking, Soren felt the blade sweep across the ending strands of his hair and noted that it had actually chopped the edge of his hair off – a testament to how sharp the blade was. He reached for the Black Knight's pouch, gripping onto what felt like powder.

The Black Knight's sword swung again, the target this time impossible to miss, and… what was that?

_Blood and war and terrible suffering but..._

There was the faintest impression of a question asked, an offer made, and though Soren didn't know the terms or even who had made it, he said yes.

_But he could see Ike again._

The barest fraction of a second before his head was chopped off, the powder in his hand spun to form a circle of pure light around him.

Back in the clearing, Alondite halted in the space where Soren's neck had been. The sage had vanished.

In a place so far removed that it might have been another world entirely, a young girl with long green hair tied back in a ponytail blinked. Was that a survivor, lying there in the plains of the Sacae?


End file.
